In search of glow worms

Punakaiki: a slow travel diary

Arriving in Punakaiki is like calling on an old friend. Tall Nīkau palms, an icon of the New Zealand bush, frame the drive along the winding roads - or, road, for there really is just one route up and down this coastline. Dense bush tumbles down steep mountainsides here until it meets the roaring Tasman Sea. It’s a wild, almost prehistoric-feeling place, which to me always seems somehow nostalgic. But that might just be because I have so many good memories here.

This is one of the first parts of New Zealand that I remember really falling in love with, almost 6 years ago. Somewhat serendipitously, on this trip we were staying in the exact same room that housed us on that very first visit. We’d booked a room in Te Nīkau Retreat’s Ruru Lodge, and were delighted to discover on arrival that we’d been upgraded from a shared-bathroom set up to one with an en suite. A perk, perhaps, of visiting during the quiet season.

Te Nīkau Retreat has become a favourite spot of ours. With self-contained lodges, rooms for backpackers, and even a wooden stargazer tent out in the bush, there’s options to suit everyone. Best of all, it’s just a short walk through rainforest down to the coast, where you’ll find a perfect half-moon sandy bay, complete with it’s own waterfall. Be warned, though, the waves can be brutal here, and are probably best admired from the shore.

On previous trips to Punakaiki, we’ve wandered the coastline, kayaked up the Pororari river, and visited the famous Pancake Rocks - all of which deserve a spot on your to-do list. This time, however, we were off to see some glow worms.

While there are a few different critters known as glow worms around the world (this confused me for a while), the kind we were looking for can only be found in New Zealand. Their otherworldly blue glow lights up caves and dells across the country, drawing in small insects (which they eat) and human visitors too (which they don’t, hopefully).

From a previous glow worm spotting expedition in Waipu.

There are many spots around New Zealand where you can see glow worms on a walking tour, or even by yourself, at certain caves close to state highways. But we’d decided to take it one step further this time.

Our journey with Underworld Adventures started at their base in Charleston and took us deep into the rainforest of Paparoa National Park. After a short ride past limestone cliffs and along the Waitakere River, we began our walk through the bush, stopping en route to pick up inner tubes (which would come in handy later) and to look at native flora and fauna. The path then changed to a steep ascent up 130 steps, until we reached the mouth of Te Ananui/The Metro Cave. After a couple of quick photos (naturally) our guides led us through the maze-like tunnels and caverns of this huge cave system, pointing out stalactites, stalagmites and impressive rock formations along the way, and regaling us with stories of the cave’s history.

Before we knew it, we came to the main event of our trip: the glow worms. But we couldn’t see them by foot. Those inner tubes we’d been lugging around were our next mode of transport, as the guides told us to turn off our head torches and floated us through a narrow opening in the rock. We bobbed through in pitch darkness, all joined together in one long raft, and suddenly there they were - thousands, hundreds of thousands, of tiny blue specks of light, scattered across the cave roof like a constellation. I could hear the gasps of those around me as I tried to take it all in, this surreal and singular experience. I could’ve stared at those little stars of living light for hours, but all too soon it was over.

We emerged once more into daylight, regrouped, and followed the resurgence down to where it met the Waitakere River. From here, it was a short but exhilarating float downstream back to the track where our journey began. Then back on the train, a short drive, and hot shower back at base. Oh, and we picked up some photos that our guides had kindly taken en route.

Some suitably embarrassing photos of my partner James and I (top left and bottom middle), and the rest of our group, courtesy of Underworld Adventures.

For obvious reasons, I didn’t take my own camera on this particular adventure. But, an opportunity did arise to see a few more glow worms that evening. More on that later.

Even though our cave-rafting, bush-walking experience felt like quite the epic expedition, it actually only took us up until about lunch time. So, after a quick sandwich, we drove back to Punakaiki for a leisurely afternoon strolling alongside our old friend, the Pororari river, and later down the Truman Track, which leads all the way to the sea.

Back at Te Nīkau later that evening, one of our hosts told us he was taking some of the seasonal staff out to see their own little glow worm dell on site, and asked if we’d like to join. Excitedly we agreed, and whipped up a quick dinner before grabbing our cameras and warm layers.

Once the group had been assembled, we wandered down into the bush once more, guided this time by phone lights. The winding paths at Te Nīkau lead to a number of different lodges, as well ponds and streams that are sometimes home to crayfish, as our host pointed out. Then we arrived at a small bank on the edge of a path, with a tiny galaxy of glow worms. A few at a time, we crouched down and squeezed together to peer at the creatures, before making way for others to take our place. It was beautiful to see, but a little too crowded to get the shot. So my camera stayed firmly packed away.

The outing developed further, turning into a drive to a cave just down the road, where even more glow worms could be found. Another opportunity. But alas, the same problem. While it was an epic experience to be led through this cave at night by someone who knows it well, the group moved on a little too fast to stop and compose a shot.

So, no glow worm photos this time. But an incredible experience had, and that’s what really counts.

We headed back to our accommodation, James ready for the warmth of bed and I not quite done with the evening. A clear night on the west coast is not to be taken for granted, so I turned my attention (and my lens) away from once magical source of light, and up towards another.

Helen x